


Sunday Morning Breakfast

by c0cunt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:46:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6012112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c0cunt/pseuds/c0cunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean wakes up first, of course, and decides on pancakes for breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning Breakfast

  Surprisingly, Jean was the one to wake up first.  Which, considering he fell asleep way later than the other two, who were curled up on either side of him, is quite impressive.  Jean doesn’t sleep much, though; chronic insomnia is annoying, to say the least.  He doesn’t particularly mind it when he wakes up to a sunny morning, and can then watch the sunlight play across Sasha’s hair, as it is right now.  Connie must’ve forgotten to close their window’s curtains again.  Not that it’s a big deal, honestly.  Connie and Sasha can sleep through a little sunlight in their eyes.  Hell, Connie could probably sleep through a nuclear explosion if he was having a particularly good dream.  

  Jean rolled up onto his elbows, so that he could look at Connie as well without moving too much.  Jean had just flopped face down in between the pair the night before, in the small space that they had seemed to leave just for him, but he hadn’t gotten to see Connie’s tranquil sleeping face.  He saw it every day, but every time Jean saw him, it was like he was able to focus on something different each time.  This morning, he happened to be focusing on Connie’s lips.  The edges were upturned and were parted just the tiniest bit, cracked and dry with the smallest of snores fluttering out.  Jean couldn’t help a smile, and quickly leaning down to place a kiss on Connie’s adorable nose (which twitched the slightest bit at the contact).  He turned to Sasha, whose hair was fanning across all their pillows quite enchantingly, and placed a matching kiss on her nose as well.  She hummed slightly in her sleep, and wiggled the tiniest bit closer, searching for more warmth.

  Jean took this as his cue to get up, rolling his resting weight from his shoulders and down to his thighs, arms stretched out like a cat in front of him.  He’s glad he decided to wear a long sleeved shirt to lay down that night, even if it does keep riding up (wasn’t this shirt Sasha’s?), keeping his freezing arms warm in the “keeping the heating bill low” temperature of their tiny house.  Carefully crawling backwards, and almost getting his feet tangled together in his overly long pyjama bottoms, all Jean wanted at that moment was a camera that could capture the moment perfectly.  A camera wouldn’t do, the sunlight would glare against the lens, and no matter how many times Jean had attempted to draw very similar scenes, it never came out exactly right.  So he ‘resigned’ himself to memorizing the curve of Connie’s shoulders, and the way Sasha’s legs curl upwards to twine with whomever's limbs are available, and how there was still the slim space between them where he fit in perfectly.

  With a quiet yawn, Jean finally rolled backwards off the bed, stretching his arms above his head as his squinting eyes searched for their alarm clock to see what time it was.  A little past 7am; too late to be going for an early morning run (the neighbors would all be walking their dogs, and Jean didn’t want to dodge between pooches ever), so...He figured it was just the right time to start making breakfast.  Hopefully Sasha wouldn’t wake up immediately upon smelling the bacon cooking this time, Jean thought, stumbling out of their bedroom and quietly closing the door behind him.  A quick pass through their surprisingly tidy little living room (Jean doing his best not to focus on the crookedly hanging photos; they drove him mad on the best of days, but Connie and Sasha loved that they were crooked, “they match Jean’s happy smile!”) into the small kitchen, and soon Jean was digging out several different frying pans, plans of bacon and pancakes and eggs flipping around his mind.

  It wasn’t until Jean was halfway done with cooking the bacon, and in the middle of deciding what pancakes to make, that a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, and a warm body pressed against his back with a hum.  It’s only when one of the arms reaches around him to snap up a slice of bacon, sleeves of a familiar plaid button down nearly covering the small hand that poked out of it, that Jean realizes who it is with a small laugh.

  “Good mornin, Sash,” He mumbled, twisting slightly to plant a tiny kiss on top of her head.  She hums slightly, barely lifting her head from where it’s resting against his back to munch on the bacon she grabbed, as Jean turns back to the stovetop.  “What kind of pancakes you feelin’ today?”  He asked, shuffling with her still attached to his back to the pantry to grab the pancake mix.  She grumbled against his back at walking, her little bunny slippers rubbing the back of Jean’s ankles, a wide yawn of “chocolate chiiiiiip” barely being distinguishable.  Jean smiled as he grabbed the chocolate chips from the pantry, Sasha still clinging to his back before dropping a tiny kiss on the back of his neck and shuffling over to the pan of bacon to help with breakfast.

  Soon enough, the bacon was nearly done, and the chocolate chip pancakes were mixed and ready to be made, and there was a loud thud from their bedroom.  Sasha paused to snicker loudly, Jean mindlessly pouring the mix into a frying pan that had been heating up, the butter having fully melted seconds ago.  There were more grumbly noises coming from their bedroom, before the door was flung open, and Connie stumbled out, still wrapped in the blanket he had been curled up under.  Only after he had two medium sized pancakes in the pan, did Jean let himself laugh, as Connie’s face was still scrunched up in disgust at another gloriously sunny morning.  

  “Someone looks a little grumpy, and for once it isn’t the resident sourpuss,”  Sasha sang cheerfully, as Jean halfheartedly swatted at her with the spatula.  Connie groaned loudly, before sinking gratefully into one of the purple chairs that matched their just-a-bit-too-big dining room table (courtesy of Sasha’s father, as a housewarming gift).  “‘stooearly,” Connie grumbled, tugging the blanket up over his head.  Sasha laughed loudly, draining the grease from the bacon pan, and snatching Jean’s spatula as he swatted at her once more.  “‘S too early for your cackling, Sash,” Jean grumbled, squeezing past her to drop a kiss on Connie’s head, moving back to reclaim his spatula before Connie’s octopus arms could claim him.  Connie whined loudly, and Sasha took pity on him as she put the pan down to cool, curling her arms around his blanketed form and dropping little kisses all along the top of his head as he giggled.

  “Wanna eat out on the patio?”  Jean asked, pulling down a plate to put the cooked pancakes onto.  A small chorus of ‘yes’s followed, and the two of them scrambled to grab plates and cutlery to set their plastic patio table with.  Quick as lightning, Jean flew to the little hiding place he had stashed their gifts, and was back at the stove just in time to throw two more pancakes into the pan, hiding the gifts up in the cabinet just to the left of the stove.  Sasha and Connie soon came tromping back in, both giggling loudly enough to make Jean look away from the pancakes with both eyebrows raised but smiling softly at them.

  “You both have way too much energy this early in the morning,” Jean said with a slight laugh, shaking his head slightly.  They exchanged a look before both leaning forward (and up) simultaneously and placing gentle kisses on Jean’s cheeks.  “Happy anniversary,” they chorused, shoving a small box each into Jean’s arms.  Jean yelped and attempted to juggle the boxes with the spatula, until Sasha laughed heartily and snatched the spatula out of his hand and hip checked him away from the stove.  Jean pouted, before placing the boxes aside and pulling their gifts down from the cabinet.

  “Happy anniversary to you two, too,” He mumbled, pressing Sasha’s gift into her hand with a gentle kiss, then turning to Connie and doing the same, pleasantly surprised that Connie had ditched the blanket and was warm enough to warm his chilled arms.  “Love you both so much,” Jean whispered, leaning his chin against the top of Connie’s head, tapping his hip against Sasha’s.  They both hummed in agreement, Sasha leaning her head back against Jean’s shoulder for a second, before returning to the pancakes.  Four years of working together had more than paid off, and they were all quietly looking forward to even more together.  After breakfast, of course.


End file.
